


Agents and Nightmares

by wormghoul



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Gen, Nightmare Sequence, Theron and Eylam do not get along, bad reactions to the Castellan restraints, to eylam if you squint Theron is as much of an SIS jedi as Ardun Kothe was
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 09:42:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12078525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wormghoul/pseuds/wormghoul
Summary: Eylam swore she would destroy the SIS and the Jedi after what Ardun Kothe did to her. But the universe had other plans, and forced her to work in close contact with Theron Shan, the SIS golden boy and the son of the Jedi Grand Master. Needless to say, it does not end well.





	Agents and Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> This is vaguely inspired by other works where Theron and Imperial Agents get along well. Theron and Eylam just...really...don't, at all, so I wanted to explore that dynamic.

     Lana Beniko was sending her spies out on a mission to disrupt Revanite communications…or at least that’s what Eylam had been told. The former Cipher Nine was sitting quietly in the front room of the safe house, keeping a casual watch over the entrance when Theron Shan walked up to her and coldly told her to get dressed.

     Normally, she would have gladly told the man to go fuck himself four ways to his preferred Corellian hell, but Eylam had received quite the dressing down from Lana earlier in the week, who was growing tired of her mistreatment of their ally. Grumbling, she stood and gathered her gear, eyeing Shan cautiously as she armed herself. Once ready, Theron led her outside, heading towards the eastern jungles of Rishi. It was strange she didn't check in with Lana regarding the mission. If there even was one.

-

     After half an hour’s hike off the beaten path, the pair came across a clearing between a cliff face and a thick patch of trees. The man had clearly scouted this place beforehand, as it looked like the perfect place to set up a small camp if needed. The clearing was conveniently sheltered visually from the outside world and the rumble of a waterfall could be heard nearby which made for excellent voice cover. Theron raised his fist, the universal signal to stop movement, then waved the Cipher over and into the space. He soon followed suit, too, pulling off his face mask so he could speak unhindered.

     “Tell me, Cipher, does the word “iconoclasm” mean anything to you?”

     Eylam stiffened. That was her keyword. Her _new_ keyword. The mention of the word put pressure on her brain and some long dead part of it twitched at hearing the word spoken aloud. Theron smiled when he saw her bristle.

     “Keyword: Iconoclasm. Stay where you are and dance for me, Cipher.” His words dripped with malice. Horrified, Eylam complied, blood running like ice. She thought Theron was shifty, but incompetent, or at least not capable of this. She was wracked with a full body tremor as she was pressed into action by the keyword and the monster wielding it. She performed a simple two step move, something absurdly simple, but nevertheless a _dance_. The Republic agent chuckled, sounding deeply satisfied. Something within Eylam knew this would end in bloodshed, probably her own, since using her keyword to treat her like a doll would not hold its appeal long.  

     “Don’t fuck with me, Shan,” she ground out, eyes on fire, still half-waltzing as he hadn’t told her to stop yet.

     “As unpleasant as that sounds, Cipher, _Imperial scum_ isn’t my type. But you can stop that jig,” he said, sounding normal and calm, like he hadn’t just stripped her of her agency and turned her into a toy. Eylam wanted desperately to lunge at him and rip his throat out with her bare hands but she still couldn’t move. He’d only told her to stop dancing, not that she could move. An insidious thought wormed its way into her brain. He could leave her here to starve to death, or be slaughtered by beasts, rooted to the spot, helpless. She wondered if he was contemplating that too, as she watched him run a hand through his ugly, gelled up hair, somehow managing to looking pensive.

     “Alright then, keyword: iconoclasm, follow me, Cipher, we’ve got work to do.” he flashed a sickly charming smile at her and she had no choice but to follow.

\-  

     Theron was slowly but surely dragging her deeper into the wilderness. The sky above darkened as they walked on, the thick tree canopies blocking the light from the sun. Every hundred paces or so, he’d order her to stop and discard a weapon. First to go was her sniper rifle, followed by her sidearm, then boot knife…until all six weapons eventually found a new home in the dirt as they trekked further into the jungle. With part of her still hoping to escape this encounter, Eylam tried mentally mapping her journey, but every time she looked over her shoulder to solidify landmarks, the jungle seemed to shift out of focus as if in a dream, leaving her feeling lost. She tried to reassure herself, saying it was panic that was clouding her mind. But the shifting jungle nagged at the back of her mind, as if its shadows were laughing at her. The feeling only deepened her fear and made her shiver even in the heat of the jungle.

     He stopped her one last time, in a part of the jungle so deep as to be unknown to anyone. But before Eylam could exploit that half second of control and snap his neck, he uttered her keyword again and put her in a “standby mode”. He turned to face her, with a wide, wolfish grin. _This is where it ends_ , she thought. Her unmarked grave would be in the jungles of Rishi instead of home in the jungles Dromund Kaas. Eylam almost felt cheated for it. There was a heavy pause before he spoke what she assumed to be his last command to her. Would it be to get on her knees? Put her hands behind her head?  Dig her own grave?

     “ _Kill me!”_ he snarled, expression contorting into something barely different than that of a feral animal, face contorted and eyes wide with madness. “Come on and try me!” he laughed, throwing his pistols to ground, assuming a battle stance with fists held high, beaming with the pride of a man who’d already won the fight. “Keyword: iconoclasm. Come at me Cipher, you know you want to!” and come at him she did.

     She wasn’t successful, of course. Even though she was the better shot, he was the better hand-to-hand fighter. A fist connected with her face and sent her reeling backwards, nose bloodied. As she stumbled back, a leg swung out, tripping her and sending her to the ground. Eylam huffed and picked herself up. She didn't want to stand, for all she cared he could pummel her into the ground right here but the restraints forced her to stand and fight. She watched him put weight on his left leg, so she faked right and threw a haymaker at his jaw. To her delight, it connected. To her dismay, instead of making a pained noise of any kind, he laughed again.  Even though the punch she threw was sloppy and amateurish, it still had _power_ behind it, yet the man barely reacted. Eylam didn’t understand, the blow should have had an impact, but he just kept coming, unfazed. Theron threw a quick succession of blows back at her, some of which she blocked, but those that connected sent her stumbling back until she was flush against a tree.

     Eylam tried to step forward and throw another punch to sate her fury and that damnable itch that came from the restraints, but suddenly she couldn’t move. She locked eyes with Theron, who stood with a hand outstretched, fingers pointing at her. Had he been Sith, he might have summoned lightning in a pose like that, but instead, a strange pressure had snaked its way around her chest, reaching between her ribs, pushing her harder into the tree with brutal force until she felt bark splinter into her scalp. _The Force_ , she realized with a half choked gasp, shaking her head, trying to will the scene to make sense. Something was terribly wrong with this picture. _He’s Force blind_ , she reminded herself, _this isn’t possible!_  She struggled against the hold around her torso, but much like Mantellian finger cuffs, the more she pulled, the tighter his invisible grasp got. Her breathing grew haggard and her brain seized in panic as she was unable to complete his request. Stars help her.

     “Let me go!” Eylam yelped, needing to break free before her body tore her apart; it set itself moving without her volition, throwing her full weight against his invisible grasp, flesh desperate to tear at the man, not realizing it was a trap. Just as her ribs threatened to crack, he released her, and fiendish glee spread across his face as her momentum propelled her forward on unsteady feet. He side stepped forward and tripped her again and sending her skidding into the ground face first. She tasted blood and dirt and then bile as his jackbooted foot made contact with her stomach while she lay prone on the ground, struggling catching her breath. She considered begging him to find some of that famed Republic mercy in him and just kill her outright, but when she opened her mouth to speak all that came out was vomit.

     “ _You can do better than that, Legate._ ” came a voice. Ardun Kothe’s voice. She looked up to see not Theron Shan, but _Ardun Kothe_ , the SIS Jedi she killed years ago.

     “You’re fucking dead!” she spat at the ghost’s feet, sure she’d hit her head harder than she’d previously thought. Her mind was already spinning from the kick to the gut, but seeing and hearing a dead man threw her for another, impossible loop. She blinked once, her mind clearing rapidly, her programming momentarily confused by the switch of players. “I killed you,” she muttered, “On Quesh, I remember, I stuck my knife into your throat, Kothe.” Ardun just laughed.

     “There is no death, only the Force,” the man mocked her, yanking her up off the ground by the collar of her shirt, forcing her upright. The movement sent another wave a nausea through her and made her vision swim. When Eylam brought her eyes to meet his, she watched as Kothe’s face shifted between Theron’s and his own. But the second she recognized Theron’s face, her programming kicked back in and she came at him like a wildfire.  

-

     “We need help!” Vector shouted down the hallway of the safehouse.  It was Theron Shan’s turn to be on guard, so, naturally, when he heard the other man’s cry for help Theron flew down the narrow corridor and into the bunk room, answering the call. The Joiner sat astride his wife, struggling to keep a hold on her wrists as she writhed and flailed against him. Standing beside the bunk, Theron too grabbed Eylam’s wrists and forced them onto the pillow behind her head, trying to still her. She was unconscious, but that didn’t mean she had any less fight in her, so even with her hands pinned she still thrashed with vigor. But what little control the two men again was just enough ensure to Vector was able to slide out of bed without being shredded by the woman.

     “It’s a night terror,” Vector hummed in his infinitely calm voice, cool and level-headed despite the scene unfolding before him. Standing now at the opposite side of the bed, Vector leaned in towards Eylam, whispering something in a language Theron didn’t understand. When that didn’t work, he switched to Basic.

     “Dearest, wake up, you’re safe here, with me and Theron,” and with that she woke with a start, eyes wide. Eylam’s eyes flew from her husband to her wrists, and then followed the line of the arms holding on to her.

_Theron Shan._

     With a yell she lifted the lower half of her body, swinging her legs off the bed and into his stomach to throw the man off balance, knocking him to the ground. Theron released her wrists as he fell, which may have been a mistake, as he wasn’t primed for a fight, but a quick scan of Eylam’s face showed that she clearly was. As the pair hit the floor, everyone's voices rang out at once, nearly drowning out each other.

     “Dearest!” Vector yelled, startled and worried for her safety.

     “Oh fucking shit,” Theron groaned, wind knocked out of him.

     “I’ll kill you, just like you wanted,” Eylam screamed, fury deepening in her voice

     Eylam connected with his legs and used her weight to keep him pinned to the ground. She threw a flurry of quick punches, though none of them made contact as he moved his head side to side to dodge or blocked the blows with his forearms. It wasn’t until she’d wrapped a hand around Theron’s throat that Vector was able to pull his wife away. Eylam fought the Joiner hard but the man just kept whispering to her in that foreign language while Theron massaged his neck, restoring circulation. Whatever the man said must have worked as after a moment Eylam stopped moving and stood stock still against her husband with eerie, blank eyes. Theron swallowed hard, irritating his injured throat.

     “I’ll never be safe, Vex. _He knows_ ,” she jutted her chin at him, still on the floor, half in shock. “They always know and they're monsters who can't help themselves.” Her face was harder than durasteel and it made Theron shiver.

     “I don’t know a fuckdamn thing,” Theron coughed, standing up to brush the dust off his pants. He wasn't a monster. Sure he didn’t see eye-to-eye with the woman, but he hadn’t thought of them as enemies, at least, not for the time being. But he was obviously wrong if the bruising around his throat meant anything. And what big, glaring thing did he not know? The lack of knowledge, of trust even, left him bristling, feeling insulted. As of right now, he just knew that he wanted to leave rather than spend another second with the obviously unstable Imperial Ghost. Whether he just wanted to leave the room or Rishi altogether he wasn't sure, but he knew he had to go. Maybe he'd go somewhere with some decent whiskey to soothe his throat and see if he could figure out what the hell had just happened. So that’s exactly what he did.

-

Eylam just watched him go, looking resigned. She turned, curling her whole body into her husbands arms and waited until Theron was long gone before breaking down into tears.


End file.
